


Love Me Through The Fear

by markblckthorne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Also did I mention SLOW BURN AF, Also kinda timeline smudgey and headcanon heavy for post school lives, Basically the whole gryffindor quidditch team tbh, CAUSE IT'S A MUGGLE AU OK, F/M, M/M, Muggle AU, but like still cute shit about him and Lee and actual scenes, cause well Fred is in a bit of a pickle, focused mainly on George and Angie, other fun mini ships recommended by my friend who helped my think of this like YEARS ago, thanks friend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2018-12-29 16:26:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12088830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/markblckthorne/pseuds/markblckthorne
Summary: Fred and George Weasley have always been one and the same, but what happens when they aren't? How do you go through life when half of you is missing? George isn't quite sure. After a horrible accident that leaves his family in shock he feels cut off from the world. His friends are determined to keep him on his feet, but no one as much as Angelina Johnson. She keeps telling him everything falls into the place in the end. He wonders if he just managed to fall into his true other half.





	1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Hospital lights were cruel, George had decided. So many people called them harsh, but no, they were cruel. They shone with such an intensity that nothing could be hidden. Every tear stain still shone, ever furrowed eyebrow seemed to glare at you specifically, and when a doctor had to be the bearer of bad news you could see it before they even had entered the waiting room completely. No matter how much you tried to hide something, some part of you always shows the truth, and hospital lights erased all secrets. They weren’t harsh; they were sadistic. Ignorance was bliss, and they never failed to take away both.

After hours upon hours in the ER, watching other families receive the worst news of their lives, he knew how to recognize the worst on a doctor’s face. You think he’d have grown accustomed to the sobbing that followed, but what would that say about him? What kind of person would he be if he went numb just because someone else had lost a mother, a father, a spouse, a… he didn’t want to think about it any longer.

He tried to focus on something else. But what was there to focus on? The magazines were all ancient, tear stained, and worthless. The windows all looked out on the ambulances, reminding him exactly where he was and why. He couldn’t hear the quiet lobby jazz over the sobs of both strangers and his family (though the latter had drifted more to a quiet shock after the long night). That left the doors. He watched them all through the night waiting for the moment when a doctor would come into break his heart and crush his world in their hands. He waited as doctor after doctor walked past his family to save another family from this horrible limbo of uncertainty. He was sure anything was better than not knowing.

It wasn’t until the sun had begun to creep through the windows that a doctor finally made their way to him and his family. Even with the sun shining into the room the lights betrayed the doctor’s carefully blank face; there was no good news for the Weasley’s tonight.

“Are you the Weasleys?” The doctor was standing directly in front of Molly Weasley now. He was not a very intimidating man if you had seen him anywhere else. He was short, weasley looking, his hair was a greasy dirty blonde that hung in his eyes, and George would have thought he was sixteen at the oldest if not for the fact he worked in the emergency room (and as a trauma surgeon according to his ID). However, knowing he was about to tell you if a loved one’s life was over or not made him the most terrifying person George had seen in a long time.

When no one answered the doctor asked again.

“Are you the Wea--”

“Of course we’re the Weasleys,” Bill snapped, cutting him off. “We’re the only fucking family you haven’t spoken to tonight and we have a clone of your patient right in front of you. Who else would we be?”

Much to George’s annoyance, the doctor didn’t even looked taken aback by the sudden outburst. In fact he just glanced at his clipboard and droned on as if Bill hadn’t said anything past the confirmation they are none other than the Weasleys.

“Are you Percy then?”

“No, he is.” Bill answered, jerking his chin towards their other brother. Percy was hunched in his chair with his face buried in his hands. He was the only one here George thought might be worse off than him.

“Well sir, you’re very lucky you were on the phone with him during the accident. Your call is the only thing that gave your brother a fighting chance.” The doctor was talking like everything was fine. What he was saying certainly sounded like things would be fine, but there was something about his tone… George didn’t trust it.

Molly hiccuped and looked at the doctor. Her face was tear stained, but they weren’t falling anymore.

“So is he alright? He’ll pull through?” The hope in his mother’s voice broke George’s heart.

Must have made the doctor feel something too because his face fell.

“Well… not exactly. Your son pulled through surgery, yes, but there’s still some… complications.” There it was. George knew it was coming, but it still took the air out of his lungs.

“Complications!? What on earth do you mean by that!?” Of course Ginny is the one to yell. She wasn’t one to sit around while people danced around the worst, hoping to be gentle. She wasn’t dumb. She knew the worst was coming when she heard it. “So what he broke something? He’s going to die tomorrow? Complications can mean anything!”

Arthur put a hand on her shoulder. “Ginny, it isn’t the time.”  
“She’s right Dad,” Bill snapped. “I’m tired of this waiting around and being coddled. Is he or is he not okay?”

There was a pause. A long pause. The doctor was in shock. George didn’t really think he had a right to be. It wasn’t his brother’s life they were talking about. So they waited until the doctor finally cleared his throat and brought the world crashing down.

“I’m sorry, but there was so much internal bleeding and swelling, especially around his brain… Fred Weasley is in a coma.”

There was more after that. George knew there was, but he couldn’t hear it. He felt like he had been shot. No worse, he felt like someone had cut the strings of his parachute and he finally hit. He felt like he was dead.

Words flitted through his mind. Things like “amputation” or “system failure,” but they were all blocked out by that one word that played over and over again in his head. Coma. Coma. Coma. Fred might as well have been dead, and it should’ve been George.

The doctor was still rambling, but he couldn’t take it anymore. Without a word George left. He left the blinding lobby, he left the false sympathy, and didn’t even stop when his family called after him. He couldn’t stay here. He had to be anywhere but here, so he dug his keys out of his jacket and drove to no place specific. He just drove. He needed to be free of the pity and far from the sterile, suffocating walls of the ER. So he just left and kept going.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

“Fuck!” George was alone in what felt like the middle of nowhere compared to the downtown bustle of London, and in a way it was. He’d managed to drive for two hours before he ran out of gas. Now he was in some field and lucky to have cell service.

So he swore. He swore until his throat was raw. He kicked the car until his foot was throbbing. Then he just cried. He didn’t know for how long, nor did he really care. The world had broken him and if that didn’t excuse a breakdown on a country road two hours from home, what did?

His phone had rung through all of this, the drive, the screaming, the heartbreak, but he ignored it. He needed to be alone. It wasn’t until he was finally could breathe without choking that he finally picked it up. He didn’t read the ID, he just hit accept and listened.

“George what the FUCK!?” Angelina shrieked on the other side of the line. “You go missing for hours, don’t answer your phone, and right after what happened to Fred!? Do you realize what a dick move that is!?”

George sighed and rested against his car. He honestly did not expect her to be the one calling.

“I’m sorry.” He said it but didn’t really mean it. He knew he should be, but they should also understand he needed space, needed time, needed to think.

Angelina knew that.

“You aren’t, but thanks for pretending.” The anger was gone from her voice, but he didn’t hear pity either. She sounded… tired. “Look, I’m not calling to lecture you.”

“You already did.”

“I’m not going to do it anymore. I’m just going to listen if you want to talk. If you want me to fuck off I’ll do it. If you wan--”

George cut her off. “Can you come pick me up? I’m out of gas.”

There was a pause. He heard her start to say something. Then there was another pause.

“Remember, you said no more lectures”

“Fine,” she sighed. “Where are you then?”

He spent the next two hours in his freezing car calling people to let them know they were off the hook for work today, maybe longer. Definitely longer. It’s hard to run a restaurant with your brother when you don’t have a brother. He had just finished with the last of the cooks when Angelina finally pulled up in her tiny blue Volkswagen.

She somehow managed to look both relieved and annoyed when she saw him sitting there, shivering through his sweater and coat.

“You realize I’m having to use a vacation day to do this right?”  
“Yes, and that is why I asked you to pick me up.”  
“Really, not just because I was the one on the phone?” George might have laughed if it weren’t for… well, everything.

Instead, he shrugged. “Well, who else would agree not to yell,  _ and _ be willing to skip work. Katie maybe, but she’s over in America right now. Hard to pick me up from there.”

“Oliver, maybe.”

At this George did laugh, not much, but a small snort at the least.

“And miss football training? Did you hit your head last night--” His voice trailed off. The joke didn’t seem as funny when thinking of what happened to Fred.

“Miracles can happen.”

“Yeah, well my luck isn’t the best right now.”

She didn’t argue with him on that. What would she say?  _ “No, really it’s great that a drunk driver ran your twin down!” _ Not exactly comforting.

“Did you pick up some gas?” George decided a change of subject was best. “Don’t want my car stuck here.”

She cracked a slight smile, one that holds just enough mischief it made his heart beat faster. It was the same smile that Fred so often gave him that meant,  _ You’ll never believe what I just did. _

“You know how I said miracles can happen?”

“It was two seconds ago. I’d be worried if I didn’t.”

“Good, then you can appreciate the miracle I’ve accomplished.” Angie didn’t explain further, she just opened the back door to her car and out popped out none other than Oliver Wood.

George had to admit he was shocked. Oliver missing anything connected to football was unheard of. George had watched him play with a broken wrist once in school. It was pretty impressive considering he was Keeper.

Still, all George managed to get out when Oliver waved at him was, “So that’s a no to gas?”

Angelina scoffed. “Are you serious? I perform a not so small miracle and you ask about gas!”

“We brought some,” Oliver cut in. George gave him a thumbs up.

“Are you not even going to ask why I brought him?”

George knew she was trying to keep the mood light. He tried his best to humor her.

“Why Angie? What is so amazing that got him to come.”

“You make it sound like I should have a marriage proposal or something.”

Oliver answered for her. “Look you guys are great at banter and such, but seriously I agreed to come because practice is late today. I still gotta make it there early, so let’s go.”

George raised his eyebrow at Angie. “Miracle, huh?”

“Hey, getting lucky on timing is a miracle.” When George didn’t agree she just sighed. “Fine, I lucked out. Anyways he’s driving your car back. You really shouldn’t be driving in your state.”

“My state? I’m tired, not drunk,” George snapped. It was honestly a bit annoying for her to lecture him on driving safety considering recent events. “Trust me I know when people shouldn’t be driving. Got to see the negative results of it last night.”

Angelina wasn’t one for the pity game, and he knew that. She didn’t hesitate to snap right back.

“You know damn well I didn’t mean it like that! You’re still in shock and haven’t slept in who knows how long!”

“I’m fine!”

“You ran away! You drove for hours not even bothering to check your damn gas!” She could have stopped there, but she clearly she had been waiting for this. “You ran off right after Fred about  _ died _ ! Do you have any clue what was going on back home? Your mother was calling all of us in a panic! Not just to tell us about him, but to ask if we had seen you because you were practically  _ missing _ ! Do not tell me you are FINE!”

There was a long silence that followed. They glared each other down. She was right, George wasn’t fine, but neither was she. He could tell, not just from the screaming. She was in her work clothes, but they were disheveled. The buttons were uneven, the collar was unironed, and her braids were falling out of their ponytail. She looked as bad as he felt.

“You said no more lectures,” George tried to make it sound light-hearted, but his voice cracked, making him sound like a bratty child.

“It wasn’t a lecture.”

“Debatable.”

Oliver, clearly uncomfortable, took the time to start filling up George’s car and let them keep glaring at each other. The only sounds were a couple cows in a nearby field and the gas glugging into the tank.

They still stood there, glaring, as the car started up and Oliver turned it around, towards home. He pulled up to the two, rolling the window down to talk.

“We all good to go?”

George was still scowling but answered. “Yeah, but I’m driving.”

Silence. Oliver looked at Angie as if to ask her to deliver the blow, but she clearly wasn’t going to be the only bad guy today.

“You’re… not gonna ride with me.”

“It’s my car!”

“And I’ll return it after practice, which I’m about to be late to.”

George stared in disbelief. After the shit day he’s been having, they’re carjacking him!?

“Just ride with Angie,” Oliver shrugged. Before George could argue and point out that this is probably somehow stealing, the car was in drive and puttering down the street.

Angie didn’t hesitate before climbing into the driver's seat of her tiny little bug and staring the engine.

“Get in or I’m leaving you here.”

“You won’t though.”

“Wanna bet? I’m sure some farmer would let you ride their cow home.”

Cows, he couldn’t help but shudder. She knew how he felt about cows. With a huff, he climbed into the powder blue car and slammed its rusty door shut with a huff.

“Good,” she said, a small smile creeping across her face. “Let’s get you home before your family thinks you’re in as deep as shit as your brother.”

And that was that. She drove him home. She didn’t pry, she didn’t pity him, she just let him stew. She let him mourn. Two hours they sat in silence. Two hours he got exactly what he needed. Not even the radio was on, and certainly not the AC with it being cold enough out that frost ringed her windows even with the heater on high. Neither said a word until they pulled up in front of his apartment and even then they just sat for a minute or two before she finally spoke.

“I didn’t mean to lecture you.”

“I know.”

“You just can’t pull a stunt like that, ever! To do it now is just plain stupid! Your mom called me to tell me Fred was in a coma and you were missing. My alarm hadn’t even gone off yet, George.”

“I’m sorry. I just couldn’t be here.”

“I know, but give us a warning next time.”

The silence returned. Figuring they were done George climbed out of the car. At this point, all he wanted to do was to fall into a small coma of his own called a well-deserved nap. He was shoving his key into the door for the building when Angie called out the window.

“You want some take out?”

He looked back at her. Hopefully, his faced conveyed just how not in the mood for a lunch date he was. “I was actually just going to sleep.”

“Not anymore, you need food.”

“Really Angie, I’m fine. Besides, you should go to work.”

“Took the day off.” Before he could argue anymore she was out of the car and headed down the block. “I’ll be back with the food.”

“I’m not hungry.”

She didn’t even slow down to call back to him. “You eat at all on your crazy road trip?”

“No--”

“Well, then no arguing. I know where the spare is so I’ll  let myself in.” On that note she turned the corner, leaving him standing there looking dazed. How could she go from exactly what he needed to just another bulldozer?

He grumbled his way upstairs, mumbling about lectures and sleep and not wanting any take out. He was so caught up in thought he almost didn’t notice the door was unlocked. He would have missed it all together if the door wasn’t yanked out of his hand the second the key went in.

“There you are-- Oh it’s you.” Lee Jordan was somehow standing in the doorway and looking very annoyed by George’s existence.

“It is my house,” George sighed, pushing past him before flopping on the couch.

Lee rolled his eyes. “Gee, really? I would never have guessed you lived here! Right above your restaurant? Shocking.” He seemed abnormally willing for banter considering his best friend and boyfriend was practical… well, know.

George certainly wasn’t, especially when he flopped on the couch specifically built for naps. Angie can share whatever she gets with Lee and they can both just leave him alone.

“Dude, get up will you.”

Or not.

“What the hell are you even doing here, Lee?”

“I’ve got a key,” he explained, shoving George’s legs from his favorite perch before sitting down himself. “One your currently missing brother gave me.”

Missing? George understood denial, but this was a bit extreme. They knew exactly where Fred was, he just couldn’t talk, or walk, or eat, or joke, or…

_ Stop spiraling Georgie,  _ he scolded,  _ before you end up in another godforsaken pasture.  _ Without a second thought, he was off to his room. Best way to stop spiraling is sleeping. Dreams are nothing but denying life’s nightmares after all.

Lee was not having that apparently if anything was to be learned from the pillow thwacking him in the back of the head.

“What the hell, Lee!? Can I not just get five minutes of fucking peace!?” He didn’t mean to snap, but too much was going on. He didn’t want to paint on some fake brave face. Lee might, but if he was ever going to just wallow in it, it was now. Why couldn’t everyone just accept that?

“Chill out I’m just trying to figure out where you’ve been all day.”

“Just call my phone seven thousand times like everyone else! Guilt me like Angelina! Don’t break into my house and wait for me to get back!” Lee was leaning back in the couch, shocked. Good. He shouldn’t be joking around today. The world was crashing down and he was laughing. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t okay, it was fucked up.

“I… I don’t,” was all he managed to stutter out.

George knew he shouldn’t be yelling. He yelled at Angie already and was lucky to be home, but he couldn’t help it. No one seemed to grasp what he was going through. He expected Lee to understand at least, but he should’ve known better. His luck was shit lately.

“Why are you here anyway!? Why are you here laughing it up when Fred is in the hospital!? You love him yet you're here to get on my nerves like everyone else! Why do none of you get I just want to be alone!?” It was spilling out at this point. He couldn’t stop it. Lee had frozen, but it wouldn’t stop coming out. “I’m not in a coma! I have both legs! I’m fine! He’s not! Worry about him!”

With each word, the horror on Lee’s face grew. Confusion, shock, hollowness. It all crossed his face, and George realized something he should have the second he walked in. No one had told Lee.


End file.
